


The Honourable Ladies Book Lunch

by Scarleystars



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Crack, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarleystars/pseuds/Scarleystars
Summary: The Orlesian Wikipedia hot take on the girls' quest for some hot lovin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the people who looked this over for me. It came to me in a dream one night, and then I had to fight to translate it from head to page; a tortuous battle if ever there was.
> 
>  
> 
> Quick note for visuals: Giselle Hawke is a 6ft, pale blonde, aggressive, sword and shield warrrior.

Excerpt taken from Master Dalforth’s Compendium of Facts 9:56 Dragon:

 

_The first Honourable Ladies Book Lunch was conducted in Kirkwall by Messrs: Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall and Head of the Amell household; Captain Isabela, known Rivaini pirate scoundrel and Lady Hawke’s companion; and Aveline Vallen Captain of the Kirkwall Guard from 9:32 Dragon to 9:54 Dragon._

_The HLBL, as it was first to be known throughout Kirkwall, was hosted in the notorious pub The Hanged Man. The party was spontaneously put together after Hawke, Isabela, Aveline and relatively unknown companion Fenris, -a freed slave with unusual markings, possibly of the Dalish- had finished a noble quest of The Golden Fool’s Locks and retired to the famous haunt. After Fenris had left, the three ladies took their first step towards the HLBL, and were overheard discussing the merits of a Rivaini text rated two scarves by the Randy Dowager; by all accounts they quickly got swept up in discussion…._

  


~~Oh how the history books always get it wrong.~~

 

“I miss cock!” Isabela screeched into her fourth cup of ale whilst Giselle snorted and Aveline put her head in her hands. It had been A Day and the three women were trying to unwind in the crowded pub with more ale than was strictly wise (all on Varric's tab) before Isabela had announced her thirst to the heavens “and not just any kind; the ones that know how to use it and make you feel all tingly inside. It’s been really hard to get anyone decent to sleep with me recently.”

“Oh maker, I don’t want to have to listen to this. Hawke, can’t you shut her up?” Aveline had upgraded to putting her head flat on the table and covering her ears. Not even Aveline had avoided the ale tonight. It had been a hard day.

Giselle Hawke barely got a shrug out before Isabela rode roughshod over whatever she had planned to say. _Oh well, it wasn’t like I could stop her anyway._

“Like you don’t know what I mean, Av-e-linee. You were married, right? Big strong strapping templar? He must have had a great massive…. Stamina. The sort of thing that you must dream about stuck in those tiny guard barracks, all alone, wishing for someone’s hands on you..”

In retrospect, Giselle wasn’t sure who was more shocked: Isabela, that Aveline answered candidly, or Aveline, that she stalked down to Isabela’s level.

“He did, actually. Wesley was a templar through and through, perfectly disciplined and with the muscle to back it up. I never had any complaints about our bedroom play. He satisfied me perfectly.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Giselle was sure of two things; one, maybe they should stop with the ale tonight, and two, if this is what hard drinking did to Aveline, they were definitely going to have to have a girls night in soon.

“Atta girl” Isabela purred as Aveline smiled as sunnilly as she could three sheets to the wind, “I'm sorry I never got the chance to meet him. If he could make _you_ turn all wobbly just imagine..” she sighed dreamily.

“Oh no.” The captain of the guard frowned blearily in Isabela’s direction, “No don’t go thinking those slutty Isabela thoughts at my dead husband. Find your own!”

“What, a dead husband?” snarked the pirate.

 _Far be it for me to be the voice of reason with these two around_ thought Giselle into her cup, _and maker’s balls, they almost got along for a split second there without me bashing heads…._

She turned back into the bickering as Isabela grabbed a book seemingly out of nowhere and flung it at Aveline's face, “take _that_ you wretched harpy, it might give you some ideas! You might learn some things and stop being so sour.”

It was apparently Hawke's turn to put her face in her hands. “Really, Isabela?”

Aveline drew herself up to her full height. “Just because I don’t want to sleep with every man who looks in my direction does not mean I need advice from a book entitled _The Salty Mistress!_ ”

Of course Isabela couldn’t let a challenge unanswered. “And just because _I_ like sex does not mean you can look down on me because you’re pent up from two years of the lack of it!”

That certainly caught Giselle’s attention. “Truly?” she asked, looking at Aveline, “there’s been no-one since we reached Kirkwall?”

“I’ve been busy!” The redhead defended.

Isabela quipped with nary a breath “So has Hawke, but _she_ still found the time!”

_Oh here we go._

“ _Hawke?_!”

“Yes, well,” Giselle responded, toying with the rim of her tankard, trying not to be ashamed of her actions whilst in the company of someone she admired deeply (and Isabela) “The Blooming Rose hasn’t suffered lack of patronage from me over the years. A girl’s gotta get her kicks somewhere, even when she's living with her judgemental mother.”

“You could do better.” Aveline said sincerely, placing a hand on Giselle’s arm.

“Of course she could, but she keeps turning me down.” Isabela retorted hotly, “Maker knows why, I’ve got at least as good a tongue as that Katriela.”

“And as I’VE said, I don’t want to sleep with you, I don’t know where you’ve been.” Giselle rolled her eyes. One day Isabela’s persistence was going to get her in trouble.

“Aw, come on kitten, it’d be a swell ride.” Case in point.

Giselle couldn’t help but inject a little hardness into her tone. “The answer is _no_ , Isabela.”

“Spoil sport.” Isabela pouted and then brightened considerably. A suspicious combination in the Rivaini. “Hey, we should all make a list.”

“A list?” Aveline queried, not sure where the pirate was going with this now that she’d stopped flirting outrageously with Hawke.

“Yes! A list of all the people in Kirkwall that we want to sleep with, or at the very least find attractive, and then if or when you sleep with someone on your list, you have to give the others all the gory, sweaty details. Aveline here has proven she can at least kiss and tell, albeit that wasn’t as raunchy as I usually hear, give us all the juicy bits next time?”

“Not my thing.” Aveline protested.

“Aveline, what's the harm?” Giselle found herself saying, “it’s not like writing down who we like forces us to bed them, plus, it might be nice to live vicariously through Isabela every once in a while. Maker knows Bethany used to tell me all together too much, but it might be nice to have a girls night once in a while. This has been fun, hasn’t it? What have you got to lose?”

Whether it was the booze, or the combined puppy dog eyes of Hawke and Isabela, Aveline rolled her eyes and said “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” and with a whoop, Isabela ran up the stairs to pilfer some parchment and charcoal from Varric.

  


* * *

  
  


_The second HLBL was secured three weeks later, this time in attendance were Hawke, Isabela and a Dalish elf known as Merril who later became known as The Kirkwall Keeper. The book in question discussed was a Dalish tome of Creator Myths that Merril was transcribing for the others whilst they critiqued it for hours on end…._

 

The three ladies were in the corner table of The Hanged Man, squeezed between a party of dock workers drinking their pay away, and some giggling women seemingly slumming it. Merril was holding court, telling stories about the Creators at Isabela’s behest, almost sweeping the candle off the table a few times by flinging her arms about. “…..And so the Dread Wolf was tied to a tree by Andruil who told him that for the crimes of hunting Halla without her permission he would serve her in his bed for a year and a day-”

Isabela couldn’t help herself, “-This one is a bit racier than the other Fen'harel stories you’ve told, what did this ‘dread wolf’ look like? Was he handsome?”

“Er,” Merril blinked liked she’d never really thought about it. “well, nobody really knows much about him other than he was the Creator’s kin but also the Forgotten Ones’ kin as well, so marginally handsome at the very least?”

“I bet he was real sexy.” Purred the pirate, eying up some smuck at the bar.

Giselle frowned. “Isabela if you can’t make it through a fairy story without thinking about sex, go and blow off some steam.” She commanded, aware that Merril’s tale hadn’t had the woman’s full attention. “Sorry if she made you uncomfortable Merril.”

“Oh no that’s quite alright,” Merril protested good-naturedly with a shrug. “Sex is perfectly natural, I’d offer myself, but I don’t really know how it works with shemlen and that’s a bit daunting.”

Giselle groaned. “For the love of everything holy, please don’t encourage her Merril!” Why did all her friends live to give her a bruised face what with the amount she smacked her hands to it?

“Ohh sweet thing,” the man at the bar was temporarily forgotten, and Giselle had the horror to be front-and-centre to an Isabela Special seduction. “That’s nice of you to offer, maybe another time I’ll show you how good it can be. How good _I_ can be.” she purred, and ass quickly as she turned on Merril, she turned away and flounced away towards the bar flinging the words “In the meantime, show her your list, Hawke! I’m off to cross somebody off of mine.” behind her.

  



	2. Chapter 2

_The third HLBL we believe was concerning a Chantry text, gifted to the Champion by her companion the Prince of Starkhaven, Sebastian Vael. The Champion helped Prince Sebastian avenge his family in Dragon 9:35. It is rumoured Sebastian faced a flock of desire demons in the Harriman’s basement that took all sorts of liberties with his princely flesh, before offering him the power and ability to take back the crown. Noble Sebastian persevered, gifted the willpower by Andraste herself and slayed them all without falling to temptation. It_ has _been purported that the Chantry verses Prince Sebastian quoted that drew Andraste to his side are all recorded in_ The Last Prince’s Demons _, that has been awarded four scarves by the Randy Dowager..._

  
  


Giselle sat down at their usual table with a huff, accepting the bottle Merril gestured to before leaning back and taking a deep draft. “Ahh, thanks Merril, I needed that.” she paused, remembering the book haphazardly slung in her backpack “Also, Sebastian said this was for you, something about your curiosity about the Chantry and starting off with the basics… I don’t know, I stop listening when he says ‘Andraste’ more than three times in a sentence..”

Merril took the book and looked at it with curiosity. “A book of Chantry hymns? That was… kind of him I suppose, to think of me. At least I’ll have something to read to distract me when the Eluvian frustrates me.”

“Or paper for your fire!” Isabela interjected as she slipped back to the table having sashayed back from the latest swaying patron.

“Isabela you can’t just pounce on any drunk man who looks pretty.” Giselle frowned, pushing the edge of Merril’s mug further from the precarious edge whilst the Dalish was distracted.

“Why not?” She retorted as she sat down at their table. “If they’re not too drunk to stand to attention, they’re sober enough to follow me up to my room. Why, talking about our princely friend, I had a glorious evening with Sebastian the other night. It only took slipping him some Qunari Gin I had been saving for a special occasion.” Isabela smirked, recalling the fun she’d had.

Giselle had a headache brewing. Taking another sip of her ale, Giselle examined Isabela’s words. “Is _that_ why he’s sequestered himself back in the Chantry for the last week and wouldn’t come out on any missions with me? Repentance and guilt?! What did you do?”

Isabela shrugged. “The pirate shrugged, reminded him of how to have fun? He actually offered once he’d had a few drinks in him, and who was I to deny Andraste-crotch a chance to unbuckle a bit. He certainly remembers how to work a woman over...”

“Wait,” Hawke frowned in consternation, “was that the last day of Bloomingtide? _Oh Maker_ , that would have been right after we fought the Vatteral at Sundermount and the Dalish gave him one of their restoration potions. Merril, don’t you usually say it would be unwise to drink anything alcoholic after one of those?” Varric had gone quite green at the descriptions the Dalish had provided, it had been funny then, and the rest of the party had ribbed him mercilessly the whole way down the mountain.

Merril nodded, “Yes, the side effects can be quite nasty when combined with alcohol. Lowered inhibitions and impaired memory are certain.”Merril nodded It was clear from her bubbly tone Merril hadn’t quite made the correlation yet.

Hawke turned to the smug Rivaini, putting both hands on the table and using the full force of her height to loom impressively over the other woman to highlight the point she was about to make; “Isabela, you got a Prince of Starkhaven, _a brother of the Chantry_ , black-out drunk and ruined his bloody vow of chastity!”

Of course Isabela being who she was, responded to the challenge with one of her own. She stood up in Giselle’s face and cried “How the everlasting mainyard was I supposed to know?! I just thought he was a lightweight, and I never _forced_ him to do anything Hawke, he offered of his own accord! It’s not _my_ fault! Apart from the despoiling, that is.” She sighed and sat back down. “I _do_ wish I’d met him before the stupid Chantry ensnared him. If he was that fun all the time, I would just have to steal him away...”

“Unbelievable!” Giselle swept a weary hand over her face “You don’t even… How do you not feel guilt over this?” How was she going to get Sebastian to leave the Chantry ever again when things like this happened? She knew the prince well enough that even if he had given in, he’d be such a annoying wretch about it in the cold light of day. _Maker’s breath, what a mess._

“Look on the brightside,” Merril offered, “at least he won’t have remembered it?”

Giselle needed further reassurance, “you’re sure he didn’t wake up the next morning with all the gory details? Or will suddenly remember out of the blue?” She feared what Sebastian would do if he found out he’d forsaken his vows with _Isabela_ of all people.

“No chance of that. It’s why we advise against it.” Giselle breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Well, at least there’s that. Hopefully he’ll just think he got really drunk.” She gave a stern look to both women. “Neither of you can _ever_ talk of this again, you understand? He’d be devastated and Maker, _so_ sanctimonious.. It was bad enough how awkward he was talking about his vow the first time; like a quick tumble required a moral compass or long term commitments...”

“Hang on a second Hawke,” Isabela hounded, waving her drink around. “ _The first time_?! You hypocrite! You’re just jealous because you tried to make a pass at him and he turned you down!”

Sometimes Giselle wasn't sure why she bothered with diplomacy. “Maker’s balls, Isabela!” Giselle huffed. “I’m not _jealous,_ I’m appalled! Yes I tried once, but I, _unlike someone else here_ , respect my friend’s choices, even when they are boring and chaste.”

The pirate rolled her eyes. “Hmph! For that, I won’t tell you all the salacious details.”

“But!” Merril whined, “you promised juicy! You said, you said ‘juicy details’ as you got me to write that list

Isabela shook her head vehemently. “Nope! You’re getting nothing. Not after Hawke tried her best to ruin all the fun.” Isabela gave a sly smile. “What I will say thoughshe , is that I rode his lips, and then he rode mine.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

_It has been speculated that Commander Rutherford, (then Knight-Captain) first earned his title ‘The Lion of Fereldan’ at a HLBL. Certainly, the epithet was heard many times at The Hanged Man through Captain Isabela, and later Master Tethras; although the former always claimed she did not come up with the title. The designation gained notoriety however, after The Champion gifted the Templar what is believed to be the authentic ‘Lion of Orlais’ shield -originally worn by The Golden Prince, Emile Deveraux- as a thanks for defending Guard Captain Aveline to the Templars after former Guard Captain Jevran, -who was dismissed for licentiousness, bribe-taking, and taking liberties with Alienage elves- tried to defame her character. It is said the Knight-Captain never used the shield in combat, but it was seen in his possession at Haven before the destruction of the town..._

  
  


The first time Hawke had someone to bring up at a HLBL review was… a shock.

“Straight-laced Knight-Captain Cullen?!” Merril looked at her with renewed enthusiasm, positively titillated.

“Mmhmm..” Giselle’s head was in her hands to preserve the blush on her face from the inevitable mocking in store.

And the mocking came swiftly; Isabela clutched her hands to her chest as she asked “was it all ‘oh! Andraste preserve me as I touch a woman’s naked flesh for the first time!’?” and threw her voice in a satirical high-pitched mimic of the curly-haired man in question.

“Ah,” Giselle said, from between her fingers. “Not really..”

“Oh,” Aveline said dryly, “this I gotta hear.”

Giselle took a deep breath. Her story could hardly be worse than some of Isabela’s escapades she tried to convince herself, even if she would blush at the telling of it;

“So I was invited by one of mother’s friends to one of those insipid Hightown parties, and it seems they had requested Meredith come along to receive some sort of medal or something. There was a lot of posturing and ‘thank the Maker for the Knight-Commander, keeping the streets safe from the maleficar and abominations of the night!’ and I tuned out. It was insufferable. Anyway, it turns out parties are neither of our comfort zones and we met by the buffet table and got chatting. The wine flowed pretty steadily and the next thing I know I’ve got my collar unbuttoned and a blond head of hair murmuring into my ear about making the night interesting for once….”

“and?!” She looked up to see twin expressions on Aveline and Isabela’s faces whilst Merril just looked delighted; they were hooked.

“And, so I told mother I had a headache and was going home. Then I slipped away to his private quarters in The Gallows. He had the strength to hold me up against the wall. Me! Against a wall like one of those skinny waifs that never eats or has any substantial muscles at all! I swear I’ve never come that many times from one man’s attentions alone. He was like an animal – a lion! and by the Maker it felt good to be his prey.”

“Well I’ll be.” Aveline’s eyebrows were at her hairline. She took a sip mechanically, deep in contemplation.

“I’ll say,” remarked Isabela, “I’ll have to start paying more attention to the quiet ones. I just have one question.”

Giselle huffed. “I may regret saying this, but ask away.”

Isabela’s smirk was terrifying. “Are his short and curlies as curly as his hair?”

 _Oh Maker give me strength to withstand my friends’ curiosity._ “More so. It turns out he uses a pomade on his hair, it’s a riot of curls when he wakes in the morning.”

Isabela was in her element. “He asked you to stay the night? How decadent! One would have expected a ‘wham, bam, thank you, goodnight, slip away in the night and never mention this again’, kind of thing. And the pomade! Seriously stuck up Cullen is an animal in the sheets with a lion’s mane. Who would have thought?”

Merril giggled “The Lion of Ferelden. He sounds slightly less scary like that.”

“But certainly more sexy.” Isabela agreed.

“Yes,” Giselle moaned. “Now I’ve got to work out how to look at him without asking for a repeat performance or turning as red as Varric’s coat.”

“What about the morning after?” Merril asked eagerly, resting her chin on her hands. “Did you have to do a ‘walk of shame’ through The Gallows? Why do they call it a shame-walk anyway?”

“Yes,” agreed Isabela, “and what about your mother? What did she think of you coming back to the house in the same clothes you went to the party in? Did she have Stern Words?” The last question was accompanied by wiggling eyebrows.

Despite the levity her companions felt, Giselle was dreading going home and facing the judgement of her mother. She knew what the woman would say, but hopefully she could avoid it this time. “He was very courteous. Brought me breakfast in his room before making it clear it was time to go, so I, uh.” _Stop blushing you silly girl,_ she thought to herself. _You’re a woman grown._ “I slipped down into the tunnels the Mage Underground uses and hid out in Anders clinic for hours. He gave me a huge lecture about ‘taking precautions’ and ‘ill-advised trysts with prejudiced mage-hating templars’, gave me the foul-tasting tea and sent me packing. I washed up in the public baths, and came here. With any hope, Mother will assume I left in the early morning, or we had an after-party and slept at The Hanged Man last night, and she’ll be none the wiser. This is not the sort of thing I can talk about with her. Not ever. Bethany could, as long as she was being sensible, but not me. I’m supposed to be ‘above reproach’.”

“She means well.” Aveline murmured, resting her hand on Giselle’s arm in solidarity.

“And a tryst like that was worth the risk!” Isabela joked, “to say that you rode the Lion and lived to fight another day!”

Giselle laughed, “Well, when you put it like that, yes it was. I’ll be riding on the coattails of that encounter for _weeks_.”

“Cheers to that!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S: By Andrassste’s Grace, you are sch-so pretty Isabela…. *hic*
> 
> I: mmmmm I know.
> 
> S: I should worship you like an idol of the Maker.
> 
> I: It’s really not fair that you don’t spout these lines when we’re both sober you know, I want to properly enjoy them.
> 
> S: Bah. I’m soooo boring now. I used to know how to have FUN. but! I’ll tell you what *leans in*
> 
> I: What? *sways slightly*
> 
> S: All that time in prayer has gifted me a… wicked tongue.
> 
> I *in spite of herself* oooooooh
> 
> S: Whaddya say izzie? You should sit on my face.
> 
> I: Shut up and come upstairs with me.
> 
> S: *fistpump* I’M GETTIN LAID!


	3. Chapter 3

_ There has been no evidence that the Honourable Ladies had any idea of the apostate Ander’s plans prior to its execution, nor to know their minds at that time how favourable the mage was in their estimations. We are aware of the statements released by each of the mage’s companions after the Chantry explosion claiming no affiliation with Ander’s actions, however they were observed reading the manifesto he had wrought during the lead up to the Qunari invasion. That being said, it is well known that the mage in question had littered Lowtown with copies, making it the text du jour, so it would be not unforseen for the Ladies to include it as part of their list... _

  
  


“So.” Isabela started, as she interrupted Hawke and Aveline’s perfectly civilised drink at the bar. “How mad would you all be if I told you I slept with Anders? I don’t want another repeat of the Sebastian debacle. That was  _ so _ boring.”

Giselle pinched her nose to stave off the headache she was certain was about to bloom, and cut off Aveline’s shocked “Sebastian debacle?! What in the-”

With a “that depends, Anders wasn’t off his face too, was he?”

The Rivaini shook her head exasperated. “As if I’d make the same mistake twice. Honestly, Hawke, give me a  _ little _ credit. One small blunder and we have to do this song and dance every time. It’s like you don’t trust me!”

Aveline’s voice was a mixture of shocked and scandalised. “You’ve slept with Sebastian and Anders? Maker’s breath, Isabela, are you fucking your way through our friends?” 

“Hey!” The Rivaini was justified defensive. “I’m not trying to sleep with  _ everyone _ . Hawke’s made it clear she’s a no, Merril won’t sleep with a human no matter the politely worded invitation, and you and Varric are  _ clearly _ a no.”

“Is that supposed to put me at ease?” Giselle murmured over Aveline’s exclamation of 

“Oh come off it, we all know you’d have a go at Varric if he wouldn’t turn you down!” 

“Well, yes” Isabela seceded. “It’s just not fair for him to flaunt that chest hair around and not deliver on any of the promises it makes!”

“Unbelievable.”  A disgusted Aveline shook her head and downed the rest of her drink. “Well. That’s me out. I’ve heard enough of Isabela’s smutty thoughts for one day. See you around, Hawke.” After clasping Giselle’s shoulder, all Hawke was left with was a bubbly Isabela, clearly waiting to tell her whole expose.

“Go on then,” she sighed. “Lay it all out, I can see you dying to tell me everything. How in Maferath’s name did you manage to convince  _ Anders _ to sleep with you?”

“Well,” Isabela clapped her hands together with relish, “it wasn’t exactly the first time. It turns out we’ve met before at The Pearl. That time he’d been called to give a lecture to the Circle and obviously didn’t want that, so he ran away for a bit. Found his way to my ship and bartered for passage. He wasn’t wearing the feathers back then, but he was still handsome and we were going that way anyway, so I accepted him on board for the price of his services. Had a whole week where the stored food never went rotten, my crew were in great shape, and I got the personal attention of a mage with great control over electricity.”   
She sighed happily for a moment before frowning. “And then the fool had an attack of conscience and went back. I heard him mumbling about justice in the night, so I assume he was talking to the spirit even then.”

Giselle shook her head, “that doesn’t sound like the Anders I know.”   
The pirate agreed. “Far too lackadaisical, right? But you know, he wasn’t always this… tense all the time. So I thought I’d remind him a bit of that. Course, apparently Justice thinks  _ dalliances _ are a  _ distraction _ to the cause, which means Anders was so pent up and I had to do a lot of prodding to get the spirit to stop being a pain. I take back what I said about three being better.”

Giselle was intrigued despite herself. “So Anders hasn’t slept with anyone since he hosted Justice?” Just how much influence did the spirit have over the mage’s life?   
“I don’t know about  _ never _ , but I don’t think he’s had any one nighters or anything apart from me. I wonder if Justice lets him jerk off at all…”    
“As if we needed more reasons to think  _ poor Anders _ ....” Giselle giggled. 

“I know, right? He’s just such a sad figure. Anyway, I went over to get him to heal whatever it was that was making my junk itch so much” Isabela  carried on over Giselle’s noise of protest and disgust “-oh stop complaining you asked for this story!- and, well you gotta test the equipment afterwards, make sure it’s all ship-shape and all that, right?;

So I proposition him, and obviously he turns me down the first time, but that never bothers me, I like a challenge. He says some trash about  _ too much work _ ” she pitched her voice to a sufficient Anders-like quality “and  _ how can I indulge when there are mages suffering? _ And I’m all like, well, they’ve been suffering since before you got here, take the night off, they’re not going to enact the Rite of Annulment just because you chose to be happy for five minutes, and  _ then _ he said  _ since when is Justice happy? Justice is righteous. Justice is  _ hard _.  _ and you know me,"

Isabela threw her hands out to the side, appealing to an imaginary audience, “I can’t resist a line like that when it’s thrown my way. So I mocked him about his  _ spear of righteousness _ and told him I miss the days when he knew how to have fun, and then I told him that he’s not the only mage I know with lightning fingers and I think that goaded him into telling Justice to shut up for two minutes and so he pushed me up against the wall and-.”

At that, Giselle put her hand lightly over the pirate’s mouth encouraging her to stop talking. “-Maker, I don’t need to hear the whole sordid details, okay? I am glad you managed to both have a good time, but  _ Andraste’s ass _ our whole friendship group is so incestuous.”

  
  


 

* * *

  
  
  


_ Viscount Tethras was thought to have completed his first novel,  _ Hard in Hightown  _ (rated four scarves from the RD) whilst travelling with The Champion and her companions. It is unknown whether he relayed his creative process to the Honourable Ladies and what they thought of his initial publication, but Kirkwall greatly received Tethras’ first book and subsequent sequels even before his acclaimed  _ Tales of The Champion _ was released. We can speculate that as revered patrons of the arts, the Honourable Ladies must have had a hand in Tethras’ blossoming literary career, especially concerning his liberal use of the Kirkwall culture and its people... _

  
  


“Thank you all for coming. This is an intervention.” Giselle stated heavily when the pirate and Dalish mage arrived to the room they’d commandeered off Varric for the evening.

“Oooh” cooed Isabela, “who for?” she asked, slipping into her seat “Not for me, I haven’t done anything  _ naughty  _ for a whole week!”

“I haven’t gotten lost for a month now.” Chimed Merril, eager to be part of whatever was happening.

Giselle sent a brief plea to the maker to gift her with better friends, and turned to Aveline, slunk in the corner. “Aveline, will you please turn over your list to the group. It is for your own good.”

Had it been any other week, Aveline would have protested heavily, but after the disastrous last two days, she just averted her gaze and unfolded the list from her breast pocket to hand over to the other women.

“Good.” verified Giselle, passing the parchment along. “Merril, will you be so kind as to read the names on there aloud?”

After shooting Hawke a curious look, Merril accepted the paper and began; “Guardsman Donnic Hendyr, Thrask, Fenris, Knight-captain Cullen, Guardsman Donnic… Aveline, you do realise you’ve put Donnic on here twice?”

“Oh!” Isabela’s one word contained a wealth of delight and future ribbing.

“She knows, Merril.” Giselle said in a dark voice, shooting the woman in question an even darker look. “After the last two days of frankly  _ horrific  _ courting and being a bit of a coward, this intervention is to discuss whether Guard Captain Aveline Vallen  _ truly  _ wants to pursue Donnic and how she’s going to go about it in the future.”

“Horrific courting?” Parroted the mage.

Giselle nodded. “She sent him a coin with marigolds on it as her opening volley, took him out on patrol where myself, Varric and Anders cleared the way ahead, so they could talk, but what did she talk about? Swords! The weather! She actually said ‘it’s a fine night for an evening’ like the words make sense! and then,  _ then _ , kept bailing out on a drink in The Hanged Man so I was forced to accidentally go on a date with the guard  _ myself  _ in order to keep him there for her! He thinks I’m  _ interested _ , Merril.  _ Because she’s exhibiting a un-hitherto exhibited lack of self-confidence _ .” The last clause was hissed at Aveline, who flinched but kept quiet.

“I love everything about this moment.” Isabela breathed, captivated.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (V: You and Isabela, huh?
> 
> An: Oh Maker, that’s making the rounds, is it? There’s no me and Isabela. Just a.. thing.
> 
> V: You have been a lot less uptight the last few days.
> 
> An: Between the Clinic, the Mage Underground and running from Templars, there’s not been a lot of… stress relief lately. I had forgotten that it can be beneficial to the body to indulge a little.
> 
> V: Mhhmm. Dress it up as a medical benefit. I’m sure Isabela would love to play healer whenever you like.
> 
> An: Isabela needs to stop picking up diseases like stray cats. Then maybe I’d consider it.)
> 
>  
> 
> (M: Thrask?
> 
> Av: He was kind when he didn’t have to be. His morals are sound, and he’s tall enough to cover me entirely.
> 
> M: Cullen?
> 
> Av: Those shoulders are worth considering, and from what Hawke said, that he’s strong enough to lift her up a wall? That would be… pleasant.
> 
> M: Fenris?
> 
> Av: Do I really have to explain that?
> 
> M: Well, no, but I want you to anyway.
> 
> Av: The world has not been kind enough to him. I would like to be a positive entanglement. Plus, broody REALLY works for him.
> 
> M: Donnic?
> 
> Av: *sighs wistfully*
> 
>  
> 
> \----
> 
>  
> 
> Donnic, running away after Hawke confesses Aveline’s attraction: I… have to go.
> 
> Internally: ohhhhh, oh shit oh shitshitshitshit she likes me. She gave me a coin as a show of affection, and then tried to talk to me on that bizzare patrol to find common interests. Shitshitshit she’s perfect. Would it be too early to find a ring? )


	4. Chapter 4

_Some would think the Honourable Ladies reading The Canticles of Shartan a disgrace, but whilst the Chantry technically repressed all elvish involvement in Andraste’s tale after the Exalted March, is the Canticle of Shartan any more heretical than the Fereldans’ belief in Andraste’s Mabari? Questions we can be sure the HLBL debated at length after a reading of Shartan’s_ A Slave’s Life _; heavily contraband but easily procurable especially in Kirkwall’s Lowtown nearer the Alienage. We can be sure the Honourable Ladies debated the Andrastian rumour of the involvement between Shartan and Andraste during the Tevinter Rebellion before the book was later gifted to one of the Champion’s companions as a mark of symbolism..._

  


The others found her drinking.

Day-drinking.

And sighing.

Drinking and sighing in a corner of the tavern usually they all avoided like the plague, the one nearest “vomit alley” (the affectionately titled route between the bar and the stairs); the one place they knew for sure only those with some serious drinking business dared brave.

So of course it would absolutely be Isabela who would break the ice and put a dent in her pla to black out the day she’d had. “So come on, spit it out. There’s only one thing that would have you in a state like this: tall, lanky and has the most stunning eyes.” the pirate brought up a chair and stole some of Giselle’s ale before waving over the other two ladies who eyed the corner with confusion, looking at Giselle as a wild specimen that needed thorough inspection before making any sudden moves.

Giselle just sighed and pried the pirate’s fingers off her alcohol whilst the rogue in question continued to fill the silence. “You need to cough up the details fast before I combust from impatience and do something that forces him to give into my charms.!”

“Who is Isabela talking about?” Merril asked Aveline sotto-voce

“Fenris, Merril." The redhead replied. "Isabela thinks Hawke and Fenris have finally stopped dancing around and taken each other to bed.”

The pirate snapped her fingers. “And I’d be right, too! There’s only so much sexual tension Hawke can withstand, and look at that flush! I’m right, _I know_ I’m right.”

There was only so much she could take between the alcohol-induced nausea, the panic and scared sense she may have done something terrible. “Maker, keep your voice down.” Giselle hissed “Yes, alright? We slept together, and it was _magical_. But afterwards, instead of cuddling and working up to a second round, he apologises and practically runs off into the night and now I don’t know what to do!” She threw her hands up in the air with relish.

“Ah.” Aveline said, whilst Merril excused herself to go get the good wine from the bar. “But it was good at least?” Aveline ventured.

“ _So_ good.” Giselle despaired. “So bloody good for someone who didn’t know what they were doing. Maker, you weren’t wrong about how bendy he would be, Isabela. _Venhedis_. What if I’ve screwed up? What if he stops coming with us on adventures? I need him around! He’s the only one of us who wields a greatsword and he’s bloody useful with it!”

“Now don’t hyperventilate. You’re better than that.” The pirate leaned over the candlelit table with a curious look of seriousness on her face. “Now I’m only going to ask these questions once, okay?” It was so odd to hear Isabela being genuine for once that it shocked Giselle out of the panic spiral she was wending into.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Okay, go ahead.”

Isabela took a deep breath. “When you say didn’t know what he was doing, are we talking just inexperienced, or, never?”

Giselle prayed to the Maker that nobody on the nearby tables were listening to this, and that Fenris never found out she talked about it _at all_. “From the sounds of it, never.”

There was a soft murmur as Merril arrived back at the table and passed goblets of the best the house could offer, and slotted herself half on the edge of a chair before Isabela continued. “And you were kind? You respected his boundaries?”

If Giselle had taken a mouthful of wine then, it would have sprayed out all across her companions and they would have deserved it for asking her such questions. “Andraste’s tits, Isabela, I may not suffer fools, but I would hardly mistreat a virgin when I come across one! Those are like gold dust in Kirkwall.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, I respected his right to say no to any part of what we did, and to back out whenever he needed. It was actually rather fun, to find out together what he liked and didn’t like….”

In unison, Merril, Aveline and Isabela nodded, as if Giselle’s words just confirmed what they had already suspected. “Good.” Continued Isabela. “Hawke tell us exactly what happened when he was leaving.”

Giselle shifted in her seat, not particularly eager to relive the moment of her gloom, but hoping the gang could parse some meaning in it that she had not. “Well we’d dozed off, and when I woke up he was fully dressed staring into the fire, I asked if it had really been that bad, that he’d run off without a word, and he said that it wasn’t me, that being intimate like that had brought up memories he’d thought were lost forever and then he apologised and said he had to go, and just like that he stalked off!” She looked around the table, “Do you think he was lying, do you think I did something wrong?”

It was gratifying to see the ripple of relief that passed through each of the women.

Isabela continued to play spokesperson. “No, from the sounds of it, you did good kitten, but you knew tall and lanky has some issues that a single night of passion won’t solve,” the sympathetic smile equally looked odd on a face used to a sultry smirk, but each word put Giselle more at ease. “However, I think it would be unwise to push the issue. Don’t be surprised if he goes silent for a bit.”

“He won’t leave, will he?” Giselle asked in a small voice, not looking up from the nick in the table she started picking apart in her anxiety.

“No, Fenris is not one to walk away from his problems.” Aveline took over “But Isabela’s right. He may need quite a lot of time to think about what he wants to do now. Don’t hesitate to ask him to come on your adventures Hawke, but don’t be hurt if he turns the first couple of invitations down. He’s a man, so he’s probably never confronted his own feelings like this before.”

“I can offer to lend an ear,” Merril piped up. “We talk sometimes, well, no, not talk, he lets me into his mansion and allows me to brew tea whilst he opens up another bottle of the Magister’s wine. I talk. He drinks. It’s comforting I think, but maybe if he has something to _say_ this time, it would be nice to have a waiting ear to listen..”

She could feel herself welling up, “Thank you, all of you. I just.. like him so bloody much. It’s intimidating.” She refused to give into tears. Not now, not ever. _Never over a man_ she had promised herself.

Flinging an arm around Giselle’s shoulders Aveline said to her, “give it time Hawke, treat him as usual in the meantime and either he’ll come around or he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Yes.” Isabela poked her in the side. “Now cheer up and tell me more about how well he wields his _greatsword”_ the pirate teased, and through her own laughter, she could hear Merril’s giggling, and Aveline’s groaning.

“Oh Maker Isabela you are the _worst_!”

  


* * *

  
  


_The Antivan tale_ The Rook of Love _could be said to be an unusual choice for the Honourable Ladies, as it is such a basic story of an Antivan Crow falling for a courtesan and the trouble it leads to, but recent editions have hinted that the simplistic plot is actually a scathing satirisation of the Crows’ rise to power within Antiva and the power struggles that continue to this day. For the Ladies to pick up on that would not be too deep a leap of logic, which would put them ahead of the curve by at least a decade, and makes one wonder what insights they had into some of the other texts they poured over..._

  


Giselle walked in to The Hanged Man to find Isabela frantically waving her over to their regular table whilst not taking her eyes off a certain Dalish mage.

“Good, good. You’re just in time for Merril to tell us _from the start_ about her weekend.” When Isabela sounded manic, you knew it wasn’t going to be a good day.

Apparently Merril agreed, because she said “ _Dirthamen’s whispers_ , you don’t have to say it like _that_ , Isabela!”

“Okay,” responded Giselle sitting down, having to shove isabela’s foot of the side of the chair first. “I’ll bite. Hi Merril, what have you done that’s made you so flustered and the pirate so giddy?”

Isabela was practically vibrating. “She only went and met my favourite person in the universe apart from myself!” she butted in before Merril could answer for herself.

Stupidly, Giselle’s first thought was _but she’s met Fenris already_ … “Favourite person..?” Giselle was confused.

“I met an elf called Zevran on Friday.” Merril said steadily, spinning her empty tankard over the wobbly table. “He said to send his regards, and thanks for helping him sort out his, oh, Elgar’nan, what did he call it? His, ‘corvid problem’? He was very sweet. It was a ships passing in the night, sort of thing; he came by the Alienage on his way out of Kirkwall, said he’d heard… interesting things from the Clan whilst he was on Sundermount and wanted to check it out for himself. I offered him some tea, we chatted, and he ended up staying the night, even left a couple of books as thanks.”

It could have been the midweek milaise dulling her mind, but it took a few moments to parse why that mild-mannered account got Isabela riled up in the corner. “Wait, the same former Crow that propositioned me within ten minutes of talking? Did you-”  
“Of course I slept with him.” Merril said as if discussing the weather. “He was really charming and I only have one bed.”

At this, Isabela couldn’t contain herself any longer. “I can’t believe _Zevran Arainai_ was in Kirkwall, you both got to meet him and he offered you both to sleep with him, and NOT ME. That’s so unfair. I would have shared, at least!” She complained.

Exasperated, and well used to staving off an Isabela Full Sulk™, Giselle looked to Merill to help de-fuse the situation, only for the elf to be smiling absently into her empty mug. She shot her a look of stink-eyed betrayal and then focused back on the calamity waiting to happen. “Yes, you’ve told us that story at _least_ three times about how much _gratitude_ you bestowed upon the professional who killed your late husband. AND about the time you had a foursome with him and The Warden and two of her companions. I just didn’t realise that was _him_ .” Giselle retorted.   
“Having met Zevran, I’m no longer surprised. I’m sure you could track him down and he’d be grateful Isabela. He was very... complimentary about you.” Merril offered, finally tuning back in.   
“Yes, well.” The pirate sniffed “that would defeat the whole charade. Do you know how long I’ve rehearsed how I’d offer to bed him again?” She held her hands out and counted off all her fingers at least twice. “More times than Hawke’s threatened someone if they don’t shut up soon!”

“-Are you sure?” Merril teased “Because that’s a lot of times..”

“Shut up Merril before I make you -oh, Maker, I do say that a lot don’t I?” Giselle put her head in her hands whilst Merril and Isabela laughed and laughed.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_ It is an open secret that Messrs Hawke was the scandalous outcome of Leandra Amell and fiancé Guillaume De Launcet, right before Leandra -after her parents disowned her for the pregnancy out of wedlock- eloped in the night with Malcolm Hawke, who raised the baby as his own. Little is known about Malcolm Hawke beyond his apostasy upon marriage, and none of the Hawke family ever deigned comment on this particular family matter: The Champion reportedly shut down any dissenters with her fists who were upset about her buying the Amell estate, which also silenced several of the more pernicious rumour-mills fast. Reports also say the records are continually tampered with whenever anyone tries to include the champion’s true father on the birth report or include anyone other than Malcolm Hawke on the records. Rumours point toward mage involvement, some say in gratitude for The Champion’s temperate reactions during the mage rebellion, others for her alleged participation with the infamous Mage Underground. _

_ Lady De Launcet of course has spoken at length about the ‘salacious rumors’ about her husband, denying any claim Giselle Hawke may ever try to make as the bastard first born, but seemingly, the Champion is not interested in her birth father’s affairs, having never been seen in the Lord’s vicinity, and at Duke Prosper’s estate, went out of her way to avoid Lady De Launcet and her half-sisters after introductions were made…. _

  
  


Merril handed her another drink. It had been a long week and it showed in the patrons left at The Hanged Man. Giselle had dismissed her party, telling them to go rest after the long journey, but had stayed and sat at the bar until Merril had come along and pried the whole affair out of her. 

Giselle found herself talking, and talking, and talking; “You know, my father never had a bad word to say about Mother’s former fiance.” Giselle took another drink. “He always said, ‘now, Giselle, how can I hate the man for having the same taste in women as myself?’ and he’d give me a big hug, then tell me to run on and do whatever chores needed doing. It didn’t matter to him that I stuck out like a sore thumb in the family; ‘tall, blonde and built like an bear, why, you take after my great-grandmother!’ he used to say. And then, one day, doing some work around the farm, I fell off the barn roof. Landed on my arm. We had some good healers in Lothering, but not miracle-workers. They say I would have lost it up to the elbow if he hadn’t hooked himself up for a transfusion. When I asked him why he did that, he said ‘when my heart beats scared like that, I’ve got plenty to spare.’” 

Giselle laughed hollowly, remembering the man’s smile. “He had such a generous heart. It was what killed him in the end. The local sect of Templars heard the words ‘blood’ and ‘miracle’, and came sniffing. He had to lie low for a while, and met an old friend on the way who needed a favour but he.. never came back. Darkspawn, they said. I miss him more than words could say.” She swept a hand across her eyes. Not crying, just, wiping some grit away. 

“Hawke..” Merril began tentatively, “to perform a transfusion…. that’s dangerously close to, well..”

Giselle nodded. “Blood magic. Yes. I am aware. It gave him an ugly bruise across his nose that never faded truly. Mother and he had screaming fights about it. Well,  _ she _ did. He just bundled her up into his arms and calmed her down whenever she started…..” Giselle exhaled noisily. “Maker’s breath, I don’t know why I’m even telling you all this. I guess seeing Lady De Launcet just brought it all back…”

“You know,” Merril said into the silence that descended “we don’t… chat that much, but one of a First’s duties would be to listen to the Clan’s woes. I was never very good at it, but I’d like to think I’m getting better, if you want me to listen?”

She tried to smile at the mage, but couldn’t quite get it to come out right. “Thanks, but I’m over dredging the past, I think. Maker, it’s been a weird week.”

Merril hummed. “A Wyvern hunt, a scheming noble, and a Qunari spy, I heard?”

“Yes. It’s a shame Tallis couldn’t stick around. She was interesting. An assassin trying to save people… Fenris wasn’t particularly happy we helped her.”

“That wasn’t all I heard Fenris was unhappy with.” Merril prodded.

That certainly put a frown on the warrior’s face. “So he refuses to acknowledge the night we had together, but gets grumpy when I kiss someone to pass the time in a jail cell? I don’t understand that elf. I have been trying to give him the space I understand he needs, I’ve been trying not to crowd him. But it’s so hard, when all I want to do is reach out and  _ hold him _ ….” she tried to quell the plaintive tone in her voice but didn't manage it entirely.

“He’ll come around eventually. Boys are fragile in such  _ strange _ patterns.” Merril said sympathetically.

Giselle grumbled. “Well he can be fragile in a way that’s  _ not _ grumpy with me for trying to keep living my life whilst he takes his sweet time to decide if he wants me.” 

“He’d certainly make up his mind quickly if Tallis were to return, wouldn’t he?” Merril said slyly “What with you obviously wanting to kiss her a lot.”   
“Oh shut up Merril.” She replied goodnaturedly “Maybe.” she gave a shrug. Not sure. “She was certainly an enigma, and I wouldn’t mind a night to see if she’s really as flexible as she thinks she is, but... I wouldn’t see it going anywhere. I guess I’m too hung up on a brooding ex-slave...” Giselle sighed. “If she ever comes this way again maybe I could introduce you?”

_ At least something could come of the whole sorry affair, _ she thought as Merril nodded. “I could always do with more friends, that would be nice. Thanks Hawke!”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


_ The penultimate HLBL was unusual in many aspects, as it was the only one to feature any men and also the only one to  _ not  _ feature a published text, but help spawn one of it’s own.  _

_ It is a well regarded fact that Viscount Tethras was inspired by the Honourable Ladies fervid critique of a wide range of texts, to create his critically acclaimed romance serial Swords and Shields. Little is known about the Ladies’ view on the subsequent publication as it occurred after the catastrophic events including the destruction of the Chantry and subsequent mage rebellion, but sources posit that they must have been instrumental in its creation, even to the point of encouraging their visages to be included in the book. Sources at the scene claim that when Guard Captain Aveline was first presented with a copy, she blushed demurely and couldn’t speak for satisfaction after flipping through the pages, only noting that the character and herself held many qualities in common, and that she should go pay the author a visit to properly express her gratitude….. _

  
  


Merril and Giselle were unwinding from a day of small chores. Anders had begged off a drink, claiming there was something he had to check up on, and Aveline had disappeared up to speak with Varric. The ladies were in high spirits as they recapped the more bizarre elements of the week.   
Once again Giselle was a source of ridicule. “Hawke I can’t  _ believe _ you offered Cullen that lion shield in the courtyard of the Gallows! In front of everyone! And you didn’t even giggle a little!” Merril sounded torn between awe and laughter.

Giselle fought down the blush threatening to rise on her skin. “It was a gesture of thanks! And besides, he may never use it.”

“Ladies, what are we talking about?” Varric asked, accompanying Aveline down to the bar proper and finding Hawke and Merril as thick as thieves.

Aveline murmured “What is it with you and shields?”

Giselle felt compelled to defend her reasoning; “They’re practical! They’re pretty but no one can deny they’re not useful too! It’s a way of saying I care about your continued existence without being a declaration of anything else! Why does  _ everyone  _ have trouble with this?! Shields are a  _ great  _ gift!”

Merril explained to Varric: “Hawke gifted Knight-Captain Cullen that old Orlesian shield she found, the one that looks like the one on all those portraits of The Golden Prince? Sort of threw it at him really, held it out in front of her like a venomous snake to be taken out of her hands, said very little, turned a bright red, and then ran away. Poor Cullen was very confused, especially as everyone around him was snickering into their hands.”

Giselle was reprising her blush at that very moment; “Look! You try to do something nice for an… acquaintance, and it completely backfires. I just noticed his shield was a little worn around the edges last time we went off fighting abominations, and when we picked up the Orlesian Lion, Isabela convinced me it would be funny. Was I angling for a repeat of…..” she trailed off as an urchin tapped her on the forearm and slipped her a folded piece of paper. “Oh, for me? Thank you, who would send a letter  _ here  _ rather than the Amell estate…? Oh! -excuse me, I have…. I’m going to go now… It seems I’ve a… meeting in The Gallows.”

The rest of them watched the usually dignified warrior stumble her way out of The Hanged Man at a pace.

“Well,” Merril said happily “she ran off awful fast. Cullen clearly appreciates her ‘gifts’.”

“If it’s anything like last time we’ll be hearing about it for weeks.” Aveline postured grimly.

“Ah,” Varric interjected with humour, “is that partly due to the circumstances that led to everyone calling him the ‘Lion of Ferelden’ with a dirty hand gesture every time his back was turned?”

“How do you know so much, every time?” Merril asked the Dwarf in awe.

“Eyes and ears everywhere, Daisy; I keep getting reports about your little meet-ups and the HLBL - the ‘horny ladies booty list’ Isabela called it?- and some of the stories that go with it. Well, I have to say, if that’s the kind of thing Kirkwall women talk about, maybe I’m writing the wrong kind of books..”

“A romance story would be nice, Varric” Aveline commented.

“You might regret saying that, Red.” Varric replied with a wink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C: You received my note?
> 
> G: Yes-
> 
> C: Good. Orsino has just stormed off to confront the Grand Cleric, Meredith went after him. She’s calling it treason. You must stop them. This fighting in the streets would only lead to more bloodshed. If you hurry you could catch them before they make it to the Chantry.
> 
> G:..... So it’s not a booty call then?
> 
> C: What?
> 
> G: NOTHING. Angry mage and angrier templar heading for the chantry. Got it. I’ll… be going now.


End file.
